


Adventures In Cake Sitting

by JMac



Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:32:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMac/pseuds/JMac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quizzical Greystone has never watched foals before.  Now she's been thrown in at he deep end, she's sitting for the Cake twins!  This is not the worst thing that happens to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1  The Baking Is A Lie

**Adventures In Cake Sitting**

**Part One:  The Baking Is A Lie**

            Diamond Tiara regarded the slip of paper in her hoof with horror.  Tomorrow would be the annual “Helping Hooves Day” for Miss Cheerilee’s class, and all of the children would be shadowing an adult and helping with a chore after school.  The slip she had drawn from the selection jar told Diamond who she would be paired with and what she would be doing.

“Pinkie Pie

Babysitting.”

Diamond was sure that if she couldn’t get out of this she’d be cleaning flour out of her ears for weeks.  _I could try to trade,_ she thought, _but no pony will go for it.  The whole class knows what little monsters the Cake twins are.  Except maybe…_

Across the classroom, filled with students milling around and chatting about their assignments, Diamond spied Quizzical Greystone.

            Quiz had come to Ponyville to become Twilight Sparkle’s research assistant.  She was bookish, desperately shy, insecure, drab (at least in her own opinion), and could at times be both brilliant and clueless.  Quiz was small and grey, in both body and spirit (again, in her own opinion).  Diamond held a bit of a grudge against her.

            Diamond sidled up to Quiz, and gave her a smile that any pony but Quiz would have immediately seen as fake.  “Hey, Quiz.  Which assignment did you get?”

            “Mr. Davenport.  I will be assisting him with inventory,” answered Quiz.  “I am quite excited about that.”

            _You would be, you little nerd,_ thought Diamond.  But, as far as she was concerned, **all** the Helping Hooves assignments were either boring or horrible, and boring was better.  “That’s all about numbers, Quiz.  You do that all the time.  Helping Hooves is about trying new things.  Want to switch with me?”

            The fact that Diamond Tiara was being nice to her should have told Quiz that this was a bad idea.  Quiz seemed not to notice. 

            Diamond surreptitiously tore most of the word “babysitting” off her slip and handed it to Quiz.  “It’s baking with Pinkie Pie.  You’ll have fun.”

            “It would be good to learn how to help Spike in the kitchen more,” said Quiz, thoughtfully.  “Yes, I believe I would like to trade with you, Diamond Tiara.”

            “Excellent!”  cried Diamond, clapping her hooves.  `She hurried away before Quiz could change her mind.

            A moment later Diamond’s friend Silver Spoon whispered in her ear.  “That was really mean, Diamond.”  Then she was overcome with giggles.  “Good one!”

#

            “B-b-babysitting?” stammered Quiz.

            “Oh, yeah,” said Pinkie Pie.  Quiz found her in the Cake’s kitchen, heating up two servings of soft, diced vegetables.   Quiz could hear childish shouts and raucous giggling coming from the living room.  “The Cakes have gone to Canterlot for the big First Snow Festival.  We’ll be watching them tonight.”

                “There seems to be a misunderstanding, Miss Pinkie.  I was under the impression I would assist with baking…”

            “Oh, that’s all done.  Finally, thank Celestia!  We’ve been working like crazy for just about forever!  Besides the big Festival in Canterlot there’s our own First Snow here in Ponyville.  And we’ve been getting requests from bakeries all over Equestria for us to subcontract cakes for other Festivals.  Gee, I wonder how many towns are holding First Snow Festivals tomorrow.  Anyhow, we’ve been pulling all-nighters to get everything done.  I’ve been baking in my sleep!  When I get a little sleep I dream I’m baking.  Or maybe I was baking and fell asleep.  Or maybe both.”  Pinkie gave a jaw cracking yawn.  “I’m very sleepy.”

            “Oh, dear,” said Quiz.  “I do apologize, but I fear I am not well suited for helping you with the foals, Miss Pinkie…”

            “Oh, don’t worry, Quizzical.  Before she left Mrs. Cake told me very firmly that I wasn’t to just play with the kids and stick you with all the chores.”

            “Actually, in the spirit of Helping Hooves Day I believe you are encouraged to do just that, Miss Pinkie.  No, my concern is…”

            “Really?  That’s good to know.  But I want to reassure you about the job.  All those rumors you’ve heard about the twins?  They’re all true.  These kids chew up new foal sitters like lawn mowers chew up the toys you lost on your lawn in the high grass.”

            “I see,” said Quiz, shuddering.  “This is meant to reassure me, Miss Pinkie?”

            “Well, not so much that part, though it is kinda fun, in a run through a gauntlet to test your mettle sort of way.  But after the twins have put you through the wringer, and maybe the spin cycle, they decide they like you and feel bad about how rotten they were.  After that the twins are little angels.”

            “It is unlikely that will be the case with me, Miss Pinkie,” said Quiz, sadly.  “Young foals do not tend to warm to me.  I am no fun.”

            “Don’t talk like that, Silly.  The kids will like you just fine.”  Pinkie set bowls of food on the trays of two high chairs.  “Didn’t you ever foal sit, Quizzical?”

            “No, Miss Pinkie.  I was too young to watch my little sister alone, and we had a nanny.”

            “Well, now you’re going to have a new experience!  Isn’t that exciting?”

            “Yes, Miss Pinkie.  Excitement might be one way of describing what I am feeling, particularly in the pit of my stomach.  It is, however, not the word I would choose.”

            “Oh, will you just stop worrying?  Foal sitting is easy if you have a sense of responsibility, and you’re almost as responsible as I am!”  Pinkie gave Quiz a little hug.  Since it was Pinkie this almost didn’t trigger Quiz’s dread of being touched, and she only flinched a little bit.  “Now, please cheer up and give me one of those barely perceptible little smiles of yours.”

            “Yes, Miss Pinkie.”  Quiz did indeed smile, though you had to know her to tell.  Pinkie knew her very well.  No two ponies in all Equestria could be less alike, yet Pinkie and Quiz shared a unique bond.  Pinkie understood Quiz in ways that nopony else did (or, at least Pinkie had an interpretation of Quiz that seemed to work).  She got all of Quiz’s jokes, when most ponies failed to even notice Quiz was joking.  Quiz, of course, didn’t understand Pinkie at all; but that was just fine, as Quiz found _all_ of her fellow ponies puzzling.

            “Any-hoo, you’ll be fine, Quiz.  They mind for me now.  For instance, they’re behaving right now because it’s dinner time and they know if they’re good they get a cookie afterwards.”

            Quiz cocked an ear.  “This is their best behavior?  They seem very loud…”

            “It’s time you met them, Quiz.”  Pinkie called out, “Kids, come here for dinner!”

            Pound Cake buzzed into the kitchen, and settled himself into his high chair.  Pumpkin came in galloping close behind her brother, then stopped and allowed Pinkie to lift her to her seat.

            “Ok, before you start, I want you guys to meet your new sitter,” said Pinkie, gesturing towards Quiz.  “This is Miss Quizzical.  She’ll be watching you with me tonight.  Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

            “Hello, children,” said Quiz.  “I am…happy to meet you.”

            Quiz had been taking voice lessons, and had worked very hard to add color to her speech.  It was discovered that, when she put a little effort into it, she actually had quite a pleasant voice.  But when she was nervous Quiz fell back to the monotone drone that had plagued her most of her life.

            “Quizzie talk funny!”  cried Pound.  Both foals laughed so hard their high chair rocked.

            “Yes, no doubt you are right,” muttered Quiz, morosely.  “I sound hilarious.”

#

            Far away, in Cloudsdale, Clip Board was just coming on duty at Weather Control Central.  He was a junior manager, and drew what any other pegasi would call the worst duty, the boring swing shift.  Clip Board liked it.

            He entered the Master Control Room to find a disaster waiting for him. 

            The Scheduling Book was a complete mess.

            The Book was so filled with loose sheets; memos, annenda, and schedule changes; that Clip could not pick it up without littering the floor with paper.  Sorting out the paperwork would take all night.  It was Clip’s idea of a perfect evening.

            That perfect evening did not include the messenger pegasus who charged up the Clip’s desk, dripping melting snow on everything and waving a bright red emergency notice.

            Clip read the message with alarm, then did something he never ever did.  He shouted at the top of his lungs.

            “Listen up, everypony!  There’s windygo activity in the Everfree Forest!  All storms scheduled for tomorrow are canceled, and you’re all on extended shifts until all storm clouds are dispersed!”

            There was a groan from all the pegasi milling about the Control Room.  “Windygoes?  What set them off?”

            “Who knows?” grumbled Clip.  “Maybe treasure hunters in the Forest found something and had a falling out.  You know, like in that novel, ‘Treasure of the Sierra Mare-dres’?  Windygoes would love that.”

            “Awe, man!” groused Rainbow Dash.  Her shift had just ended, and she’d been taking it easy in the break room before heading home.  “It’s First Snow in Ponyville!  My team spent all day getting the clouds for a light dusting in place.”

            “Well, you have to go back and break all those clouds up,” stated Clip.  Clip was a desk jockey, not a leader, but he knew an emergency when he saw one dropped on his desk.  “If the front those Windygs are generating gets to those clouds we won’t get a light dusting, we’ll get a blizzard.”

            “My team has been setting up the First Snow Festival in Baltimare,” said a pegasus.

            “We’ve been doing the same thing in Fillydelphia,” said another.

            “Good grief!” gasped Rainbow Dash.  “Clip, just how many towns are about to hold First Snow?”

            Clip began flipping through the scheduling book, trying to make sense of it.  There was a delay to allow repairs to the Harbor to finish in Baltimare, in Canterlot the Festival was moved up a week to avoid a conflict with a University Graduation…all the memos seemed to be about First Snow.  Clip looked up from the book, terrified.

            “Clip!” demanded Rainbow Dash.  “How Many Towns?!”

            “All of them,” Clip Board whispered.

#

            “Uh, uh, uh, Pound Cake!”  chided Pinkie.  Pound set his spoon down, he’d had it poised to launch squishy peas into Quiz’s mane, and tried not to look guilty.

            Other than this, meal time was largely uneventful.  Pinkie took advantage of the peace and quiet to give Quiz a few pointers on Cake sitting.

            “To reassure you, Quizzical, I’m going to share with you all I know.  To begin, don’t under rate these kids, Quizzical.  And never think you’ve over rated them.  You can’t.  Pound Cake is a little powerhouse.  You’ll never believe what he’s capable of until he’s taken you for a ride through the house.  It’s a little like water skiing, except without the water or the skies.  Rainbow Dash says it’s because baby pegasi have a big wing surface to weight ratio advantage, but I don’t know.  It always strikes me as silly to apply aerodynamics to pegasi.  Don’t tell Rainbow I said that.”

            “Yes, Miss Pinkie,” said Quiz.  She summoned her notebook and began scribbling furiously.

            “Now, Pumpkin gets these huge surges of magic.  At the top of her game I think she could give Twilight a hard time.  Were you like that when you were a baby, Quizzical?”

            “No, Miss Pinkie.  However, my little sister Delight did.  I was very young, but I vividly recall how she frightened me at such times.”

            “You should also remember that when you are talking to yourself in front of them, and don’t bother denying that you talk to yourself Quizzical, you aren’t just talking to yourself.  They may not talk so good, but they understand everything.  Everything.  And they are always listening.  Isn’t that right, kids?”

            “You betcha, Pinkie!” answered Pumpkin.

            “Also, never bargain with them.  It may seem like the only way to get what you want from them, but you’ll never get a fair deal.  They’re sneaky, and they cheat.”

            Pound made a rude noise.

            “Oh, who do you think you’re kidding, Pound?  You’re proud of it!  Um, where was I?  Oh, yeah, cheating.  Remember, Quizzical, never ever take your eyes off one of them while the other distracts you.  If they succeed in tag teaming you it’s all over.  You just have to hang on for dear life until they get bored.”

            “Thank you, Miss Pinkie,” said Quiz.  “But I have to ask again, what part of all you have told me is meant to be reassuring?”

            Pinkie laughed.  Before she could give Quiz an answer the Twins began to point to a kitchen window and shout with excitement.

            “Snowing!  Snowing!”

            “Wow, it really is!” exclaimed Pinkie.  “And it’s coming down hard!  I hope this doesn’t ruin the First Snow Festival.”

            Quiz watched the heavy snow flakes flying almost horizontally past the window.  This was clearly not the work of the Weather Patrol.  To Quiz it looked neither natural nor good.  Admittedly, Quiz was a natural born pessimist.  The sight filled her with a sense of dread.

            “I hope the Festival is the most we have to worry about, Miss Pinkie.”


	2. Part 2  The Imperfect Storm

            “Go Out Side!”

            “Play In Snow!”

            “Absolutely not,” stated Quiz.

            “Awe, Quizzie no fun,” moped Pound Cake.

            “Yes, I know,” said Quiz.  She looked at the nearest window.  Quiz had to use her magic to brush the frost patterns away just to see through the pane.  The results of her effort did not last long, as new wispy ice features began to form immediately.  It didn’t matter.  There was nothing to see but the driving snow.   “I would not dare go out in this storm.  If it is not safe for me it certainly is not safe for you.”

            “You listen to Miss Quizzical, guys,” said Pinkie.  “She’s a bold adventurer like Daring Do, and she knows danger when she sees it!”

            The twins stared a Pinkie.

            “Miss Pinkie, I believe you are confusing the children,” said Quiz.  “They must find it impossible to associate me with anything as exciting as you describe.  In all fairness, what you call my ‘adventures’ would be better described as ‘accidents.’”

            “You are too modest, Quizzical.  I’m sure lots of ponies would find stories about your ‘accidents’ exciting.”

            “Oh, dear,” muttered Quiz.  The very idea of anypony telling stories about her was  embarrassing.  “At any rate, it is dangerous, and none of us are going out in this storm.”

            “This protect you,” said Pumpkin, and she telekinetically drew an umbrella from its stand and presented it to Quiz.

            Bemused, Quiz regarded the parrot’s head handle being offered to her.  “Thank you, Pumpkin.  But that will not be enough to safely brave the snow.  If I were to open that outside in these winds I would surely fly away.”

            “Love to fly!” cried Pound, buzzing around Quiz’s head.

            Quiz shuddered.  “That would make one of us, Pound.”

            The twins giggled.  “Quizzie funny.”

            “I was not joking.”

            “Come on, kids,” cried Pinkie.  “Pumpkin, let’s see how tall a tower we can build before Pound knocks it down!”

            Soon, Pinkie was stacking building blocks while Pumpkin used her magic to try and fend off her brother.  Quiz thought Pinkie’s choice of  game was much to rowdy for inside play, but she had to admit that Pinkie had a point.  The twins were too excited by the snow they were missing for a more quiet activity.

            Quiz noticed that the twins would babble together as they played, and would frequently crack themselves up and there would be a fit of giggling.  It took her a while to realize that in their baby talk they were affecting a monotone drone. 

            “Oh,” whispered Quiz.  “That is how I sound to them.”

            Blushing, Quiz retreated to the kitchen.  There were dishes to be done.

#

            As Quiz worked at the sink she heard a bell tone.  It was her friend Sweetie Belle asking to be sent a Note.

            Quiz had invented a spell that allowed two unicorns to send each other magical notes.  She called it, with typical simplicity and clarity, “Notes.”  Sweetie Belle was not skilled enough to send a first Note, but she could respond if Quiz started the process.  She could also send a tone to let Quiz know she wanted to chat.  Quiz felt Sweetie Belle did this a bit too often.   Sweetie Belle liked to talk considerably more than Quiz did.

            This evening Quiz thought a bit of idle chatter might be a welcome distraction.  She sent the Note.

“ _Hello?”_

            Almost immediately, a sheet of insubstantial note paper, glowing a pretty shade of blue, appeared hovering in front of Quiz.

_“Hey, Quiz!  We’re having a sleep over.  What are you up to?”_

_“I am doing nothing interesting.  A sleep over, you say?”_

            A golden yellow Note appeared next to the blue one.

_“Quiz, it’s Dinky.  Look, I’ve learned how to attach a Note to Belle’s!”_

_“Congratulations, Dinky.  Your magic is coming along very nicely.”_

            At the same time Quiz sent this Note she muttered aloud, “Oh, dear.  Does this mean Dinky will soon also be sending me tones?”

_“We’re at Pip’s place.”_

_“My Mom got called out to help fight the storm.  Every pegasus did.”_

_“They also called in unicorns to fight it with magic.  Even Rarity!  And she hates weather spells!”_

            Quiz considered this.  That the Weather Patrol was going to such lengths alarmed her.  The storm must be worse than it looked, and it looked horrifying.  But Quiz could do nothing about that.

            She could do something about another concern.

_“I am happy you are spending the evening with Pipsqueak, and I am sure you will all have great fun together.  But I must ask you both to please not take advantage of his trust and good nature.”_

_“What do you mean, Quiz?”_

_“Please, do not give him a make-over.”_

_“Awe, Quiz, you’re no fun!”_

            “So I have been told,” muttered Quiz.

_“I am quite serious.  I know you can talk him into it.  Please do not.  If photographs of Pipsqueak in a wig and make up begin circulating about school I shall be very cross with both of you.”_

_“Yes, Quiz.  We’ll still have lots of fun without the make-overs.”_

            “Quizzical, come and play with us!” Pinkie called from the living room.

            “I am nearly finished, Miss Pinkie,” Quiz answered.  With the dishes done Quiz would lose her excuse to hide in the kitchen.  She braced herself for the inevitable.

_“Speaking of fun, how are you and the twins getting along?”_

            Quiz sighed.

_“They are excited about the snow and disappointed that they cannot go out and play.  They cannot be made to settle down.  Their idea of play is rather more rambunctious than I enjoy.”_

_“Oh, they can’t be that bad.”_

_“Sweetie Belle, the children are bouncing off the walls.  Normally_ , _that is just an expression, but that is not the case here.  The children are literally bouncing off the walls.”_

_“You might have fun if you give it a try, Quiz.”_

_“You have said this to me before, Sweetie Belle.  That has never proven to be the case.  Further, Miss Pinkie insists that I interact with the children, on the grounds that ‘it will be a good experience for me.’  Nothing that I am told is both ‘fun’ and ‘a good experience’ can end well.”_

            “Quizzical, come on!” called Pinkie.  “I told the kids how good you are at hide-and-seek and they want to challenge you!”

            “Oh, dear,” Quiz said to herself.  “That…well, actually, that sounds tolerable.”

            Before she could answer, Quiz overheard Pinkie speaking firmly, “No, Pound Cake, you do not jump on the furniture.  Here, let me show you.  See what I’m doing now?  That is exactly what you are not allowed to do.”

            “Look out, Pinkie!” one of the twins laughed.

            “Uh, Oh,” said Quiz.  She sent a Note saying good-bye and that she had to go, and cut the connection without waiting for a response.  As she hurried to the living room Quiz heard a startled squeal, followed by Pinkie crying out.

            “Woooo!  Wooo!  Wooo!”

            As soon as she reached the living room Quiz was forced to duck, as Pinkie flew by just above her head.

            The Cakes had just remodeled their living room, and Pinkie had forgotten all about their new ceiling fans.  As she demonstrated the exact technique for bouncing on the furniture that was forbidden, Pinkie’s mane was swept up and tangled in a fan blade.  As Quiz cringed and the twins cheered Pinkie made three more orbits before she pulled free and was tossed across the room.  She struck the back of an easy chair, which fell over, and Pinkie disappeared behind it.

            A moment later Pinkie popped up, and while she was a bit wobbly she said, “I’m alright!”

            The tortured mounts of the fan gave way, and the fan shot across the room and hit Pinkie in the forehead.  She fell back hard against the wall, and this was just too much for the mounting brackets of a shelf above Pinkie.  The shelf, along with its load of encyclopedias, fell and broke over Pinkie’s head.  She disappeared behind the chair again.

            After a pause, Pinkie again appeared, wobbling considerably more this time.  She said, “Maybe not.” There was a soft thud as she disappeared one last time.

#

            “Bother!” gasped Quiz.  She had summoned a book on first aide from the library, and held it open floating in the air.  She was paging through the section on head injuries as she cleaned a cut on Pinkie’s brow.  “According to this, Miss Pinkie exhibits many of the symptoms of delirium when she is well.  That is not helpful.”

            It had taken a heroic effort, with the twins getting under hoof as much they could manage, but Quiz had gotten Pinkie onto a sofa.   She seemed to be resting comfortably.   In fact, she seemed to be dreaming.

            “Pinkie napping?” asked Pumpkin.

            “Yes,” said Quiz.  “Rather than a coma, she seems to have fallen into natural sleep.  Miss Pinkie did complain that she was sleep deprived.  The book says that this may be a good sign, or it may not.  Again, that is not helpful.”

            “Pinkie nap, so Quizzie play with us!” demanded Pound.

            “Perhaps later.  For now, I need you to play quietly while I see to Miss Pinkie.”

            “I’m so glad to see you guys getting along,” said Pinkie dreamily.   “More punch, Mr. Turnip?”

            “Who she talk to?” asked Pumpkin.

            “Mr. Turnip, Rocky, and Rainbow Dash,” Quiz answered.  “The three of them are apparently at a party, and off to the side telling jokes.”

            “Pinkie silly!”

            “Perhaps, but it seems like a very nice party.”  Pinkie’s wound had almost stopped bleeding, and Quiz began to apply a bandage.  “We should leave Miss Pinkie to her party while she recovers.”

            Pound hovered above Quiz, settling his hooves lightly between her ears.  “Quizzie play with us now!”

            “Young colt, it is very rude to land on a pony’s head without their permission.”  Pound moved off, and took up a station between Quiz and her book.

            “Want more,” said Pumpkin.  She reached out with her magic to open her toy chest, intent on dumping all her playthings on the floor.

            Quiz created a screen to interrupt Pumpkin’s spell.  “Play with the toys you already have out, Pumpkin.”

            “Want more!”  Pumpkin stepped to the side to get around Quiz’s screen.

            “Not now, please.  Pound, please move, I am reading that.”  Quiz moved her screen to counter Pumpkin’s spell.

            Laughing, Pumpkin galloped across the room the get past Quiz, and began to levitate the toy chest.  Quiz, stopped her again.  “Young filly, are you dueling with me?  That is not acceptable.  _I_ am not allowed to duel with magic without adult supervision, you certainly are not.”

            “Bet I beat you!” cried Pumpkin, dashing to the opposite side of the room to get around Quiz again.

            “I do not bet,” said Quiz, as she surrounded Pumpkin with an anti-magic bubble.  Pumpkin pouted, and Quiz was afraid she would start to cry.

            A buzzing sound, swiftly rising in volume, reminded Quiz that she had lost track of Pound.  As he pulled out of his dive, Pound released the pillow he was carrying.  It hit Quiz so hard in the back of the head she stumbled and almost fell.  Pumpkin escaped from Quiz’s spell.

            “Pound!  That was very naughty.  You do not have permission for a pillow fight, and you may not dive bomb guests in your home under any circumstances.”

            “Quizzie not like this game?”  Pound had gathered up a load of building blocks and was circling to make another pass.

            “Oh, my,” Quiz was just able to catch the blocks as they fell at her.  Then she was struck in the face by a cluster of soft toys.

            “I win!” cried Pumpkin.

            Quiz was so startled she dropped the blocks on her own head.

            “Enough!” shouted Quiz, stomping her hooves.  Then she went on yelling.  “You are naughty, naughty, naughty …er…” The twins were startled into silence and just stared at her.  Blushing, she tried again in a calmer tone.  “That is, enough of this game.  You must stop now.”

            “Pinkie say Quizzie play with us!”

            “Pinkie say it good ‘sperience for Quizzie!”

            “Ok, everypony, it’s time for some games…” muttered Pinkie, in her sleep.

            “Very well,” said Quiz.  “If you will give me ten minutes to see to Miss Pinkie, I will play a game with you.”

            “We choose?”

            “It will be the game of your choice.”

            “Promise?”

            “I promise.”

            “Yay!”

            It occurred to Quiz that it had not taken her long to break all the rules of foal sitting Pinkie had given her.

#

            “Now, Ladies, you both look divine.  Let me get you some cake…” sighed Pinkie.  Apparently, Rarity and Madam La Flour had shown up at her party wearing the same hats.

            Quiz was stymied.  There was absolutely nothing more she could do for Pinkie.  She wanted to go for help, but she couldn’t leave the twins alone, and she certainly couldn’t take them out into the storm.

            Quiz had no idea what to do, and she hated it.

            A tone rang out of thin air.  Quiz answered it.

_“Hello?”_

_“Hey, Quiz!  You making it through the storm OK?”_

_“We are warm and dry here.”_

            That was an honest answer, though missing a few details.  Quiz wasn’t about to share any of her troubles with her friends.  Why worry them?  It wasn’t as if Dinky or Sweetie Belle knew any more about head injuries than she did.  Worse yet, Pipsqueak might be reading over their shoulders.  Pip fancied himself a bold adventurer.  Quiz could imagine him pulling on his snow boots and sneaking out of the house to rescue her.  Quiz could not bear the thought of something happening to Pip.

_“It’s really gotten bad.  We saw Applejack and Big Mac try to bring the snow plows into town.  They had to turn back.”_

_“I hope the Apples are doing OK.  It’s a shame you can’t link Applebloom to our conversation, Quiz.”_

_“Yes, Dinky, that is unfortunate.”_

            In fact, Quiz knew that it could be done, in theory.  She was sure that eventually her intellectual curiosity would get the better of her, and she would work on the problem.  For now, Quiz had no desire to become the network hub for her friends chitchat.

            On the floor in front of her, the twins were cracking each other up.  The game was a contest of who could give the other the sternest look.

            “You are naughty young colt!  No pillow fight!  No dive bomb!”

            “Bad little filly!  You duel in house!”

            The twins collapsed into fits of laughter.

            Quiz looked away and wiped her eyes.

_“So, how are you doing with the kids?”_

_“I will be fine.”_

            Quiz regretted it the moment she sent the Note.  She had the bad habit of saying “I will be fine” whenever she wasn’t going to be fine at all, and both her friends knew it.

_“Tell me what’s wrong, Quiz!  Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me!”_

            Quiz heaved a deep sigh, and composed her Note.

_“I feel almost as welcome and appreciated as I did my first year at the Magic Academy.”_

_“But, Quiz, you said you were picked on and bullied at the Academy.”_

_“I was.  My statement stands.”_

_“But, Quiz, they’re just little kids.”_

_“That makes it worse.  I am no longer bothered by the teasing of ponies my own age.  But the children are getting to me.”_

_“They don’t mean it, Quiz.  Try not to take it so hard.”_

_“Thank you, Dinky.  I am sure you are correct.  I feel a bit better already.”_

            Quiz was not being entirely honest.

#

            Quiz excused herself, as the twins were getting impatient, and she had one more task before she could play the game as promised. 

            She debated sending a Note to the Ponyville hospital.  Doctor Stable could read the Note, even though he didn’t know the spell, so he could not answer.  However, it seemed unlikely that anypony could help her.  Potential rescuers might well come to harm if they tried.

            If she were alone there would have been no question, Quiz would have waited until the storm was over to call for help.  But she was not alone, and she was responsible for the twins and Pinkie.  Quiz felt obligated to at least send a message and hope for the best.

            She composed a Note, outlining her situation and listing Pinkie’s symptoms, signed it, and send it to Doctor Stable.

#

            Doc Stable was catching his breath after setting his fifth broken wing of the evening, when the glowing beige Note appeared out of nowhere, and floated in front of his nose.

_“Hello.  I am a middle school filly caring for two foals.  The adult supervising me has sustained…”_

            The Emergency Room doors opened, and Stable held up a leg to shield his eyes from the blast of icy wind and snow.  He accidentally waved through the Note, and dispelled it.

            Derpy entered the E.R., carrying two unconscious pegasi.  Burly orderlies hurried to take them from her.

            “What happened?” asked Stable.

            “They were thrown into each other in a gust,” answered Derpy.  “I think they cracked their skulls together.”

            “Head x-rays for these two,” Stable ordered.  He looked at Derpy critically.  He had never seen a more wind battered pegasus still standing upright.  “Rainbow Dash has already rescued eight members of her team.  You guys are really getting crushed out there.”

            Derpy nodded.  “It’s too dangerous to fight the storm here.  We’re too close to the Everfree Forest.  We are going to have to retreat.”

            “Retreat?!”

            “We’re going to form a line at Canterlot and push the storm back from there.”

            “But that means giving up on Ponyville!”

            “Yeah, but only for tonight.”  Derpy appeared to be close to tears.  “It’s…hard.  Really hard.  We all have something here we care enough about to fight for.  But that should give us the juice we need to turn back the Windigoes.  Windys can’t beat ponies that care.”

            “Well, good luck to you.”  There was nothing more to say.  Stable had patients to get to, and Derpy was in a hurry to return to her team.  The doctor  had already forgotten about the Note.

            That was just as well.  There was nothing he could do for Quiz anyway.

#

            “Alright, children, pick a game,” declared Quiz.  “We will play until it is time for your baths.”

            “Not part of deal!” exclaimed Pound.

            “No, but bath time is part of your schedule.  You cannot say I have changed anything.  Now, what would you like to play?”

            The twins answered in unison.  “Hide-seek!  Hide-seek!”

            This came as a relief to Quiz.  She had already found a shadow between the couch and the wall where she could keep track of Pinkie while she watched the twins hunt for her.  Quiz planned to allow a reasonable interval to pass, then she would let the children find her.

            “Quizzie It!”

            “Oh.  Oh, darn.”

            


	3. Part 3  Miss Quizzical's Wild Ride

 

            Quiz closed her eyes and dutifully counted to one hundred by fives.  When she opened her eyes she did not expect to find either of the Cakes crouching behind a lamp or pole too narrow to hide them, but she was still disappointed.  Scanning the room, Quiz found no little pony tails or ears sticking out of too small hiding places.

            Quiz listened intently, but the children were being very quiet.  She took a moment to enjoy that.

            It would have been nice to just stand there in the quiet room until the Twins got bored and came out of hiding.  But that would not be fair.  Quiz had promised to play, and so she was going to play.

            “I should be able to hear the softest sounds; their breathing, little movements…”

            “Bwah, bwah, bwahhhh…” went Pinkie, though her pursed lips.   Pinkie had begun another flugelhorn solo.  Her previous performance had apparently ‘totally killed.’  She was at her dream party, after all.

            “So much for tracking the children by sound,” muttered Quiz.  She began searching methodically, looking behind furniture and opening cupboards.  She was sure she was ‘cold,’ but that might work to her advantage.  If the Twins could see her then looking in all the wrong places might make them giggle.  They obviously enjoyed laughing at her.

            “Oh, my,” said Quiz, loudly.  “I fear the children are too smart for me, and I shall never find them.”

            This ploy produced the intended result, sort of.

            There was, indeed, giggling.  It came from everywhere.

            “Pumpkin, you can throw your voice?  That is extraordinary.  Sweetie Belle has only just learned this, and sound and voice based magic are the spells she does best.”  Despite herself, Quiz was impressed. 

            “Quizzie can’t find us!” Pumpkin called, from every corner of the room.

            Quiz’s wonder at Pumpkin’s skill was somewhat deadened by the taunting.  The baby unicorn had become her nemesis. 

            Giggles echoed from every shadow.

            It was also difficult to remain impressed when the effect was so very, very creepy.

            Quiz thought she heard a scrabbling sound from near the ceiling.  Since the Cakes scrupulously kept their home free of vermin that had to be Pound.

            “Very clever, young colt.” Quiz began to move objects on a high self, searching for Pound.  “I might have predicted you would choose a hiding place above my reach.”

            “That was ‘Feels So Good,’” muttered Pinkie.  “Now, this next one’s called ‘Give It All You Got!’  Bwah, bwah, bwah, bwah, BWAH…!”

            Before Pinkie drowned out the sound, Quiz thought she had heard it again.  But this time it was far from where she’d first heard it.

            “Squeak.”  It was Pumpkin’s rubber chicken.

            Quiz crept very, very quietly up to the toy chest, then threw open the lid.  Pumpkin wasn’t there.

            “Squeak.”  The toy glowed with an aqua aura.

            “Oh, that is a clever misdirection, squeezing your toy telekinetically,” said Quiz.  “But you have given yourself away, Pumpkin.

            Magic leaves a trail a sensitive unicorn like Quiz can track.  The ventriloquism spell is much to diffuse to follow, but telekinesis leaves a trail straight back to the caster.  Quiz closed her eyes and followed her horn.

            She promptly walked head first into the couch.

            “What?  But I have already looked behind the couch.  And there is no room around Miss Pinkie to get under the cushions.   Pumpkin, you could not possibly…”

            Straining her weak levitation skill,  Quiz lifted the couch enough to look underneath.  There was Pumpkin.

            “Little filly, come out of there before I drop this on you!”

            The couch glowed aqua, and Quiz no longer felt the weight.  Pumpkin lifted it enough to wriggle out from under. 

            “Pumpkin, again you impress me, but if you can do that you might have offered to help when I was settling Miss Pinkie.”  Pumpkin just stared at her.  “At any rate, I have found you.  You must go to ‘base’ to wait while I find your brother.”

            Quiz levitated Pumpkin to the crib.

            Pinkie had just finished her tune.  “Gee, thanks, you really are a great audience.  Now, who wants to hear ‘I’ll Take You Home Again, Cathleen’ one more time?”

            “Oh, please, no,” gasped Quiz.  She whispered in Pinkie’s ear.  “Miss Pinkie?  Perhaps you should put on another record instead.  Miss Twilight said that she wanted to dance.”

            “Oh, okie dokie,” answered Pinkie, dreamily.  She began to hum along to a lively dance tune.

            “Now, where was I?  Oh, yes, Pound Cake, where are you?”

            Pound found this amusing, probably because he was still free while Pumpkin was caught first.  He laughed.  It was a tinny echo, reverberating through the house.

            “How did you do that?”  Quiz’s brow furrowed.  She knew the little pegasus did not cast a spell.  Over at ‘base’ Pumpkin was filling the crib with toys.  Whether her brother was caught or not was his own problem as far as she was concern.  Then how…

            “Pound Cake!  Are you in the duct work?”

            Pound thought this was hilarious.  “Quizzie still gotta find me!”

            “I do not.  The air system is out of bounds, you have broken the rules.  You must come to base.”

            “Not out of bounds.  Didn’t say, so not a rule.”

            “Your parents do not allow you to climb about in the ducts.  If it is out of bounds out of game, it is out of bounds in game.  Come here right now, you little cheater!”

            Pound laughed as if this was the funniest thing in the whole world.  A series of clangs rang out as Pound was apparently galloping across the ceiling.

            “Quizzie should stop him,” said Pumpkin, with a yawn.  She did not look up from her toys.

            “Indeed, I should,” stated Quiz.  It was not safe.  Fans forced hot air though the ducts.  Also, if Pound broke through, as he no doubt would the way he was carrying on, he could cut himself badly on the sheet metal.  Drastic action was called for.

            Quiz used her magic to test all of the vents until she found the loose one Pound had used to enter the system.  It was over a bookcase.  This struck Quiz as convenient, as she did not want to go out into the cold where she was sure Mr. Cake kept his ladder.

            She reconsidered how convenient this was when she began to climb the bookcase.  It was not very well balanced, and swayed both back and forth and side to side.  Quiz managed to get to the top with only a couple of close calls, though she felt she was in constant danger of either falling or toppling the whole case.  Once she had a relatively steady perch, Quiz removed the cover from the vent and climbed halfway inside.

            It was only a moment before Pound barreled into her.

            Startled, Quiz kicked out, and suddenly she couldn’t feel the bookcase under her anymore.  There was a crash far below her.

            Pound sat in the duct, staring at Quiz.  He shook his head to clear it, and said, “Hi, Quizzie.  Meant to do that.”

            The duct began to creak.  It sagged.

            “Hello, Pound Cake.  I do not mean to do this.”  There was a ‘pop’ and Pound disappeared.

            Another ‘pop’ and Pound’s exclamation, “Whoa!  Dizzy,” let Quiz know that Pound had reappeared in the crib. 

“I am very sorry, Pound.  It is unpardonably rude to teleport another pony without their consent.  Remember that, Pumpkin.”   Such rudeness offended Quiz to her very soul, but she felt Pound had left her little choice.

“Do it again?” asked Pound. 

“Perhaps some other time.”  Quiz still had to deal with dangling from a hole in the ceiling, but at least without Pound’s weight the duct had stopped collapsing.  Quiz felt ridiculous.  She was able to put this out of her mind, as she was used to it.  Much of what she found herself doing made Quiz feel ridiculous.

“Help Quizzie,” said Pound.  Quiz felt him land on her back.

“No, Pound, that will not…”

The duct came away and broke through the ceiling.  Pound flitted away in time and he escaped the crash.  Quiz did not.

“Oops,” said Pound.

#

The duct bent when it hit the floor, and it took Quiz some time to free herself from the vent.  She shook herself to remove as much of the ceiling plaster dust as possible.  Normally, Quiz would not have done this in the house.  But, as she sadly observed, the room was already covered with the stuff.

“I shall come away from this night with more bruises than I expected from an evening of foal sitting,” said Quiz.  “Though I suspect the fault here lies with my expectations.”

After brushing more dust from her eyes, Quiz examined the room.  She blinked.  “For instance, I did not expect to find the crib empty and nopony on the couch.   I now expect I shall soon panic.”

Raucous laughter came from the kitchen.  “Pinkie fun!  Take us for a ride!”

Quiz’s expectations were met.

#

“Upsie-daisy,” said Pinkie, lifting Pound and setting him in the Cake’s industrial-sized pot washer.  Pumpkin was already sitting happily inside the machine.

“Miss Pinkie, what are you doing?” asked Quiz, warily.

“It’s bath time, so I’m giving the kids their bath,” said Pinkie, checking that the well of dish soap was full.

“Pinkie give us dish washer ride!  Yay!”

“Oh, dear.”  Quiz grabbed a copper kettle off a rack, and used it to flash light at Pinkie’s face.  “Look, Miss Pinkie.  Look at the shiny thing.”

“Ooooooh, pretty!”  Pinkie stepped towards Quiz.

Quiz began to back away, turning the kettle to keep the light trained on Pinkie.  She backed out of the kitchen, and up the stairs.  With Pinkie following, Quiz back all the way to Pinkie’s bedroom door.  She threw the kettle into the room, and after Pinkie followed it inside she closed the door and locked it.

“I apologize for confining you, Miss Pinkie,” Quiz called through the door.  “But it appears I cannot trust you with the children.”

“I understand, Quizzical,” Pinkie answered.  “It’s the responsible thing to do.”

“I suspect you may soon fall over, unconscious again.  Please stand next to something soft you may land on when that happens, Miss Pinkie.”

“Will do, Quizzical.”  There was soon a soft thud, as Pinkie fell over onto her bed.

Quiz allowed herself a moment for a deep sigh of relief.  Then she dashed back downstairs to the children.

The Twins were not in the washer.  They were apparently not in the kitchen.  They were not, as far a Quiz could tell, in the living room.  They did not seem to be anywhere in the house.

“Have you hidden again?  That is not fair!  I have caught you both, fair and square, the game is over!”  Quiz stomped her hooves.

Giggles rang from all the shadows.

#

At Pipsqueak’s house the kids had built a castle from a cardboard box and Pip’s  building blocks, and Dinky and Sweetie Belle were using Pip’s action figures to rescue their dolls from a fearsome plush dragon.

Pip had left the game, and stood staring at a window.  Staring _at_ the window, not through it, as the snow drifts had already covered it and the first story of the house.  Pip’s mother had made all of the children mugs of her excellent hot cocoa.  Pip’s mug sat on an end table by the window; the little marshmallows had all melted, and the cocoa was growing cold.

“Pip, what’s wrong?” asked Dinky.

“I’m worried about Miss Quizzical,” answered Pipsqueak.  “She said the Cake Twins hurt her feelings.  Pinkie would never let that happen.  I think something has happened to Pinkie, and she can’t help Miss Quizzical.”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Pip,” said Sweetie Belle.  “If something was wrong, Quiz would have said.”

The second she said this all three of them realized that it simply wasn’t true.  This was Quiz they were talking about.

“Pinkie can make anypony cheer up,” said Dinky.  “She can even make Quiz smile.”

“What do you mean, ‘even Quiz’?” asked Pip, indignantly.   “Miss Quizzical smiles.  A little.”

“She didn’t mean anything, Pip,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Miss Quizzical is the bravest pony I know.  She doesn’t have any…” Pip stopped, trying to remember the fancy word Quiz had taught him.  “’Phobias.’  She’s very, very shy; but nothing scares her except too many ponies paying attention to her.”

This was true, for the most part.  Given her aptitude for mishap, being alone in a dark, scary place was just another Tuesday for Quiz.  But if she wasn’t alone, if she was responsible for other ponies…

“This could be Quiz’s greatest nightmare,” said Sweetie Belle, staring at the window.

#

“I am walking through a waking nightmare,” muttered Quiz.  She called loudly to the room in general, “Ollie, Ollie, alls in free!”

Silence answered her, interrupted by not even a cricket’s chirp.

“Did you not hear?  I have called ‘alls in free.’  I give.  You have won, I am defeated.  Come out, and you shall receive a congratulatory cookie.”

There was laughter, and Pumpkin spoke from the top of the stairs (where Quiz could plainly see she wasn’t), “Quizzie gotta find us!”

“Bother.”  Quiz was inspired to revisit her plan to just let the Twins hide until they became bored.  The quiet time would certainly be useful.  Quiz needed time to work out how she would explain to the Cakes the state of their home.

There was no longer any way to climb up for a closer inspection, but as far as Quiz could see from the floor the structural two-by-fours the fallen section of ductwork had been anchored to were undamaged.

“’Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, there is a hole in your ceiling, and a small length of your heating system is lying on the floor, but at least there is no danger of the roof falling down.’”  This sounded to Quiz like something Pinkie would say, and that was not a comfort.

“I knew, when I discovered I was to be a foal sitter, that I would not be good at it,” Quiz muttered sadly.  “But I never suspected that I would prove to be the worst foal sitter ever.”

In all of the history of bad foal sitters, had a pony ever before torn a hole in their host’s ceiling?

As nice as the alone time was, Quiz knew that the Twins had not had their naps.  As over excited as they were, it was entirely possible that if they were left alone long enough they might fall asleep.  Quiz was not at all confident that she could find well hidden, sleeping foals, and she did not wish to add “why your children spent all night in a cupboard,” to the already lengthy list of things she had to explain to the Cakes.  She also didn’t really want to leave the children to sleep all night in a cupboard. 

Quiz was just going to have to find them.

Hmmmmm.  There was the section of duct work lying on the floor.  The plaster dust around it seemed ever so slightly disturbed.  A clever pegasus, or a unicorn who could levitate herself, could reach it without leaving tracks.

“It certainly is someplace I would consider, if I were one of the Twins,” mused Quiz.  “Either they are slipping, or this is a trap.”

Moving ever so carefully and quietly, Quiz went to one end of the sheet metal tube and peered inside.  There were Pound and Pumpkin.

“Children, this is not safe, there are many sharp edges.  Please, one at a time, as carefully as you can, come out now.”  Belatedly, something that else that she needed to say occurred to Quiz.  “Oh, and I tag you both out.  I have found you.  I…I…I have trouble believing I am saying this.  I win.”

“Quizzie good at hide, seek,” said Pumpkin, as she emerged from the duct.

“Thank you for the compliment, Dear,” said Quiz.  “With luck, this will not be the only thing I do right tonight.  Pound, please come out of there.”

Pound buzzed out of the end opposite Quiz, and flew to the ceiling.  He stood there, looking down at Quiz.  “Still wanna play.”

“No, Pound, it is time for your…”

“Wanna play!”  Pound began to walk across the ceiling away from Quiz.

“Do not be rude, young colt, and come back here.  It is time for your…”

“Quizzie make me!”  Pound circled back and hovered in front of Quiz’s nose.

“Uh oh,” said Pumpkin.  “Somepony’s gonna get it.  Probably Quizzie.”

“This was not my idea.  You have made me do this.” Feeling she had been back into a corner, Quiz enveloped Pound in a telekinetic bubble.  “I have you, Pound.”

She began to drag him towards the bathtub.

Pound pushed on the bubble and Quiz was yanked back, as if pulled by a rope tied around her neck.

“Who got who, Quizzie?” cried Pound.

“Pound Cake!  You must behave yourself.”

Pound pushed on the bubble again, and Quiz was almost yanked off her hooves.  “Gonna take Quizzie flying!”

“Why?!” exclaimed Quiz.  “Do you really dislike me that much?”

Pound chuckled.  “Quizzie funny.”

“I was not jokinnnnnggggggggggggggggg!!!”

#

It wasn’t anything like waterskiing, with or without skies, in or out of the house.

An  adult pony such as Pinkie might have been able to drag her hooves and slow Pound down a bit.  Poor little Quiz, barely larger than Pound himself, proved to be no anchor at all.  For her it was more like being the tail of a kite caught in a hurricane.

Pound expertly navigated through every archway and open door on their floor of the house.  He swung Quiz wide at every turn and dragged her head first through every opening.  If a door was ajar but not latched he opened the door by bouncing Quiz off it.  Only two doors on that floor were locked; the bed rooms of Pinkie and of the Cakes.  Pound tested these doors the same way as the others, and Quiz bounced off these doors with a considerably firmer rebound than the others.

“Quizzie getting tired?” asked Pound.

“You will tire of this first!” declared Quiz.

“Make some music now!”

“Pound, You may not go down stairs.…Yipe!”  Quiz rolled to the side just in time to avoid being eviscerated on the banister.  “Pound, I forbid you to enter the kitchen….Yoaw!”

Pound swung Quiz through a rack of spoons and ladles, which rang as she struck them, then again as they fell to the floor.  He was so pleased with this trick that he made another pass, this time through a rack of pots and pans.

“Yay!” cried Pumpkin, from the floor above.  “Pretty music!”

“Yes…well…” gasped Quiz.  “No one asks…the mallet…how _it_ feels…about…a xylophone…solo!”

Pound shot back up the stairs.

As parents of rambunctious twins, the Cakes had long since moved all their breakables to a safe place.  Quiz was now on a collision course with that safe place.

There was not enough time for Quiz’s life to flash before her eyes as she struck the glass China cabinet filled with decorative plates and crystal stemware.  There was barely enough time for her to squeeze her eyes tightly shut.

Quiz bounced off.  It was a very sturdy cabinet.

“Quizzie tired yet?”

“A bit.”

“Me, too.”  In fact, Pound was beginning to breath hard.  His growth spurts had cut into his weight to wing surface ratio considerably.  “One more trick, then we quit.”

“We could just quit without the one more trick….Eeeeep!”

Quiz held on through the first three barrel rolls.  It was only during the fourth role that Pound shook her off.  She slid across the floor, barely made it through the bathroom door, and came to an abrupt halt against something solid.

Lying on the bathroom floor, Quiz could see the tub and the sink.  That meant the white porcelain fixture her head was up against was something else.

“How convenient,” muttered Quiz.  She called out “Children, come here, it is bath time.”

Then she leaned over the fixture, which was neither the tub nor the sink, and was violently ill.

#

“Want more,” protested Pumpkin.

“Do not be silly,” said Quiz.  After drawing the Twins their bubble bath, she had let them each pick two bath toys.  “Anymore floaty toys and there will be no room to play.  It would be ridiculous to add more.”

A bell tone rang out of nowhere.

_“Hello, Sweetie Belle.”_

_“Hi, Quiz.  What’s up”_

_“The children are having their bath,  What is up with you?”_

           “What that?” asked Pumpkin, pointing to the Note.

            “It is a message from my friend Sweetie Belle.  She wishes to know how the evening is going.”

             “Having lotsa fun!” cried Pound.

              “No doubt you are,” muttered Quiz.  But it seemed a safe thing to say, so she sent that.      

_“The children are having a lot of fun.”_

_“Pip wants to know if Pinkie is OK.”_

           “Oh, dear, what made him suspect anything?”  muttered Quiz.

“What she say now?” asked Pound.

“She wishes to know how Miss Pinkie is feeling.”

“Pinkie take a nap,” said Pumpkin.

Again, that sounded like a safe thing to say.

_“Miss Pinkie is exhausted and is taking a long nap.”_

_“While you watch the kids alone?”_

_“I feel it is important that Miss Pinkie rest.”_

This was not a lie, per se

_“Quiz, are you guys OK?”_

_“Why do you ask?”_

_“You are infuriating!  Don’t answer a question with a question.  That’s, um whatdoyoucallit?”_

_“Deflecting.  The word is deflecting.”_

_“Thanks, Dinky.  Stop deflecting, Quiz.  What’s wrong?”_

“What she say?” asked Pumpkin.

Quiz sighed.  “She says I am infuriating.”

“In-furry-tating?”

“That is a nice try.  Sweetie Belle is angry with me because I do not tell her everything.”

“You fib?”

“No, I shall tell the truth.  But now is not the best time to tell the whole truth.”  Still, Quiz had to say something to divert their attention.

_“There have been accidents.”_

_“Oh, no!  What got broken?”_

_“The house.”_

There was a long pause.

_“Quiz, are you exaggerating?”_

_“Belle,  it’s Quiz.  She doesn’t exaggerate!”_

_“Actually, Dinky, I may be guilty of a slight exaggeration.”_

_“Well, that’s a relief.”_

_“Really, it is only the living room that is broken.”_

_“Quiz, are you going to be alright?”_

_“Yes, I believe so.  I never wanted to foal sit again any way.  I just did not want to be forbidden from ever foal sitting again.”_

_“Forbidden?”_

_“Yes.  I believe the Cakes will be in the Mayor’s office tomorrow demanding that ‘Quizzical Greystone may never foal sit again’ be written into the town charter as law.”_

_“Quiz, is there anything we can do for you?”_

_“Keep each other warm and dry and happy.  Speaking of which, the Twin’s bath is over and I must get them dry and cozy for bed.  I will talk to you again later.”_

_“’Kay.  But if you get lonely, or you just want to talk, Note us.  Please?”_

_“Yes, yes, I promise.  Good night Belle, Dinky.  Pipsqueak, if you are reading this, protect them on this dark and stormy night.”_

             Quiz dispelled the connection without waiting for a response.

            “What did you say?” asked Pound.

             “I have been telling my friends  about the wonderful time we have had tonight.”

             A moment’s vigorous work with a bath towel produced two fluffy, dry foals.  With a brush Quiz fixed the fluffy part.  Then she helped the children into their pajamas.

            “There.  You may play quietly until it is time for bed,”

             “Tell us a story?”

              “Story!  Please, Quizzie, story?”

              It struck Quiz as an odd request, given that the Twins did not like her voice, but she was willing to give it a try.  There were some fine books in the Library’s children’s section that she could summon.

             “Tell us about the little unicorn who could walk through walls,” said Pumpkin.

             “Yay!” cried Pound.  “The story with the fire!  Like that one.”

             “You know this story?”  This was not something Quiz would have chosen to tell.  Living through it had gotten her into quite enough trouble.  She did not plan to share it with impressionable foals.

             “Mommy tell us.  Got a lesson, ‘play careful with magic.’”

              “Yes, I suppose the tale does illustrate that message.”  If Mrs. Cake approved, who was Quiz to argue?  “Very well.  Make yourselves comfortable, and I will tell you the story.  Ready?  It begins with a unicorn named Belle.  Belle was very clever,  but she was helpless when it came to magic.  She could hardly cast a spell at all.  Then, one day, she discovered a trick…”

#

              “…and even though Belle had actually started the fire, she was awarded an honorary firefighter’s badge for her bravery.  And Belle hardly minded being punished for experimenting with magic, because she was so happy to have helped her friends.  The end.”

             “Why they punish her?” asked Pound.  “That’s stupid.”

             “The moral of the story is you should not play with magic without an adult watching over you.  Belle had to be punished, to remind her never to do it again.  Also, it shows how selfless Belle was.  She knew she would be punished if she gave herself away, yet she used the spell anyway to save her friends.”

            “Mommy tell it different,” said Pumpkin.  “There’s another unicorn.  She’s brave, like Belle, and she holds back the fire with magic.  I like her.”

             “Oh, well,…” Quiz began to blush.  “I tend to forget all about her when I tell the story.  Now, it is time for bed.”

               “Quizzie?” asked Pound.

               “What is it, Pound?”  Quiz expected him to ask for a glass of water, or something else to stall bed time.

                  “Is getting cold?”

                   “What?”  Quiz was so comfortable with cold that she had not noticed until Pound pointed it out.  She ran to the thermostat.  According to the temperature display, the house was five degrees colder than the heat was set.  While she watched it dropped two more degrees.

                  “Oh, dear.  There seems to be something wrong with the furnace.”

      

 

                                                                                               

 

 


	4. Part 4  To Light A Fire

 

            “Achoooo!”

            A copy of the furnace owner’s manual hovered over Quiz’s nose, next to a book on furnace repair she had summoned from the library.  As she paged through them the two rarely touched works shed dust.

            A sneezing fit was the least of Quiz’s worries.

            Quiz muttered to herself.  “There is power and the breaker switches are in order.  The fuel oil tank is nearly full.  There is a strong pilot light.  It appears a faulty safety device is telling the furnace it is unsafe to turn on.”

            Quizzie?  Quizzie?”

            “Children, stay at the top of the stairs, you are not to come down to the basement.  Bother!  The troubleshooting guide advises me to contact a service agent.  Are these guides not meant to be helpful?”

            “Quizzie?  Quizzie?”

            “Be still, children, I will come back upstairs in a moment.”

            “We break it, Quizzie?”

            “What?  Oh, I do not think so.  The furnace does not know there is a large hole in the ducts.”  She continued the thought  aloud.  “Mind you, trying to blow hot air across the gap in the air system might over tax the furnace, and something might burn out…”  She shook her head, and called loudly up the stairs, “No, we are not to blame.  Do not worry yourselves with that.”

            “Quizzie fix it?”

            “I shall have to think.”  Quiz concentrated on the problem.  She was soon lost in thought, and could hardly hear the Twins calling her name.  She also had to put the sounds of the storm out of her mind, and that was much more difficult.  The basement was not as well insulated as the rest of Sugar Cube Corner, and the roar of the wind was much louder.  To Quiz it sounded like the howls of monsters, and she was not convinced this was just her imagination.

            “If I can find the broken component then perhaps I can summon a replacement from Mr. Trane’s parts supply.  I could apologize and pay him later…”  Few ponies could match Quiz’s skill with the Teleport Object spell, but this would require her to find and summon an object she knew nothing about from a room where she had never been.  Difficult, but not impossible.  This assumed she correctly guess which part she needed.  She could keep trying until she got it right, but the list of possible broken parts was lengthy.  Quiz couldn’t keep at it until she froze there, not with the Twins waiting for her.

            There was something else she could try.  Ponies had been surviving blizzards for generations before they had power or fuel oil or furnaces.  It was a simple matter of Quiz working it out.

            Something shook Quiz out of her reverie.

            “Miss Quiz-kal?”

            “What did you call…Yes, children, I will be right there.”   Quiz galloped up the stairs, and only stumbled a bit when she tried to take three steps with one bound.

            “Miss Quiz-kal got an idea!  Can see it.”

            “It shows, does it?  Yes, I have an idea, and you shall help me make it happen.”

            “Yay!  We help!”

            “Exactly.  Together we shall build a mighty fortress against the cold.”

#

            Clip Board couldn’t hold onto his clip board.

            He was in the habit of consulting his board every few seconds, but he was also not in the habit of standing in shrieking winds that would tear the board from his hooves and send it flying away like a lost kite.  Clip tucked his clip board away in his pack.

            It didn’t matter.  He had lists, and numbers, but it all could be better expressed with one word.

            Everypony.

            No matter where in Equestria they came from, if a pony could reach the storm line in Canterlot this night then they were here.  There were pegasi on the line from towns Clip had never heard of.  Unicorns who had never cast a weather spell were on the line, trying to tear away at the storm with magic instructions hastily written on note cards.  Snow shovels were passed out to every volunteer who wanted one; and when they ran out of snow shovels the ponies improvised.  Common ponies, ordinary citizens of Equestria, attacked three story snow drifts armed with only their garden spades.

            “You beat us in Ponyville, but that’s the last win you get!  We’re going to teach you a lesson you should have learned a thousand years ago.”

            The windies and their storm had a tremendous hoof hold.  But windigos feed on the bad feelings ponies hold against one another.  On this night of team work and cooperation the windigos would be starving.

            Clip Board could already feel the change.  Clip calculated (in his head, as he couldn’t hold his clip board) that the storm would be pushed back into the Everfree Forest by dawn.  They would take back even Ponyville, even if it wouldn’t be until morning.

            It would just take a long, scary night of work.

#

            To keep it from becoming a long, scary night, Quiz knew she had to keep the Twins engaged.  That was not a problem, as many hooves made a task go faster, and there was much to do.

            Quiz began by helping them into their wooly snow suites.  As she helped them dress, Quiz gave the Twins their orders.

            “Gather all of the pillows in the house, and all of your largest, fuzziest toys.  Then we need all the warm blankets and quilts.  All these things must be brought to the kitchen.”

            “What we do, Miss Quiz-kal?”

            “We shall keep away the cold as ponies did long ago, as Mrs. Smith did when she was your age.  You children know Granny Smith?”

            “Granny silly!”

            “Yes, perhaps she is sometimes.  But she is also wise.  You would do well to listen to what she has to say.”

            “Granny wise,” mused Pumpkin, thoughtfully.  “Miss Quiz-kal wise?”

            “Me?  No, I fear I am not.  But I know enough to learn from those who know better than I.”

            “Miss Quiz-kal wise!” protested Pumpkin.

            “Yeah!”  Pound emphasized his agreement by stomping his hooves.

            “Why, thank you for the vote of confidence.  We shall see later which of us is right.  At any rate, what we shall do is gather all the things we need to stay warm in one room.  There we will huddle together to keep each other warm.  It is called ‘bundling.’  Ponies have used this strategy to survive blizzards for many years.  You have your  jobs to do.  Let us hurry to do them.”

            “Miss Quiz-cal not dressed yet,” pointed out Pound.

            “Well, yes…”  Quiz had found one of Cup Cake’s warm jackets, but it fit her like a tent, and she couldn’t keep the sleeves rolled up.  She knew that walking on the elbows would ruin the garment, and it hurt Quiz to destroy anything more that belonged to the Cakes.  But Pound was right.  Even a pony as comfortable in the cold as Quiz could feel the temperature dropping.  Quiz struggled into the jacket, to the Twins’ apparent satisfaction.  “Now, you have work to do.  Off you go, both of you.”

            “Yay!  We build fortress ‘gnst the cold!”

            The Cakes had modernized their kitchen, but they had not discarded their oldest appliances.  Quiz found an old wood burning stove in one corner, and lit it.  She then hung sheets to form partitions around it, to contain a little more of the warmth.

            While Pound buzzed about gathering items, and Pumpkin levitated and teleported others, Quiz opened all of the faucets in the home and set them to drip.  She hoped this would keep them from freezing, at least enough so the pipes won’t break. 

            This left Quiz with one last task.  She unlocked the door to Pinkie’s bedroom and entered.

            “Miss Pinkie?  I need you to wake up.”

            “Madam La Flour, you dance divinely.  And who would have thought you were so light on your feet, Big Mac?”

            “Bother.”  Quiz took Pinkie’s mattress in her teeth and dragged it, along with Pinkie, to the head of the stairs.  There she paused, exhausted from her efforts.

            “Please, Miss Pinkie, I need you to walk down the stairs.  I shall do anything you ask if you will do this for me.  I cannot leave you up here to freeze.  I will listen, as you play the flugelhorn again.  I shall even make a request.  Play ‘Land Of Make Believe.’  I am not partial to it, but it is a favorite of my little sister’s…”  Quiz began to weep.  “Please, Miss Pinkie…”

            “I need to make more punch,” muttered Pinkie.  Then she rolled over, and faced away from Quiz.

            Quiz could think of nothing to do but pull the mattress down the stairs.  If it got away from her it would run like a sled, and Quiz would have nothing for brakes but her own hooves (or, more likely as these things went, her head).

            Pinkie and the mattress glowed with an aqua aura, rose a few inches into the air, and began to glide down the stairs.

            “Pumpkin?!  Are you doing this?”

            “Pumpkin do it!” cried the little filly.

            “Well, that is quite extraordinary.”  Quiz was amazed and impressed by Pumpkin’s magic, and a little bit frightened as well.  But mostly she was relieved.  The mattress, Pinkie and all, was soon down the stairs, and situated in the kitchen, as close to the oven as Quiz believed safe.

            “The mattress will make a fine foundation for our fortress.  But Miss Pinkie is in the way.”

            “Show you trick,” declared Pound.  Then he laid out a quilt in front of Pinkie, with one corner near her face.

            “Pinkie!  Show us burrito!” the Twins called in unison.

            “Okie Dokie Loki,” sighed Pinkie, sleepily.  Then she took the corner of the quilt between her teeth, and rolled herself up in it.

            “Pinkie chimi-cherry!” laughed Pound.

            “No.  Pinkie cherry-chonga!” insisted Pumpkin.

            “Chimi-cherry!”

            “Cherry-chonga!”

            “Children, please stop.  Miss Pinkie is a cherry chimichonga.”

            That settled, they piled cushions onto the mattress and rolled Pinkie back into place.  Everypony was wrapped in blankets, and then Quiz settled the Twins in to huddle closely next to Pinkie.  All three were wrapped together with another layer of blankets.  Then Quiz built a wall around them with the remaining pillows, leaving it open where they faced the oven.  Quiz hope this would help trap a bit more heat for them.

            Finally, Quiz threw the quilt and heavy blanket she had saved for herself over her shoulders, and took a seat by the oven door.

            “Miss Quiz-kal not cuddle with us?” asked Pumpkin.

            “Perhaps latter,” lied Quiz.  “For now I have to tend to the fire.”

            A bell tone rang.

            “Sweetie Belle calling!” sang the Twins.

            “Yes.  Well, let us see what she has to say.”

_“Hello, Sweetie Belle.”_

_“Hi, Quiz.  Checking up on you, since you never called back.  You never call back.”_

_“It has been a busy night.”_

_“Has anything else gone wrong?  Are you OK?”_

_“Yes.  I will be fine.”_

            “Oh, darn.”  Quiz planted both her fore hooves against her face and shook her head.  “I really must learn not to say that.”

_“OMC Quiz!  You are infuriating!  What’s wrong?!!!”_

            Pumpkin giggled, “Sweetie Belle call you infurrytating again?”

            “Indeed she has.  Now I must answer to her.”

            “No fibbing,” said Pound.

            “I shall be honest, mostly.”

_“I have found an upside to tonight’s events.”_

_“Oh, what’s that?”_

_“My parents worry constantly that I never spend any of my allowance.  I will soon have a large purchase to show them.”_

_“Hmmm?”_

_“Tomorrow I will have to hire contractors to repair Sugar Cube Corner.”_

            “What you say, Miss Quiz-kal?” asked Pumpkin.

            “I am telling Sweetie Belle about our fine fortress.  She is jealous.”

            “Sweetie Belle got a fortress ’ganst the cold, too?”

_“The children want to know if you are as warm and cozy as we are.”_

_“Oh, yeah.  And we are having a great time.  Pip knows lots of games.  Oh, and he thinks he looks pretty good in the wig.”_

_“Please tell me you are joking.”_

_“I’m joking.”_

            “What she say?” demanded Pound.

            “Their fortress is not as nice as ours, but they are still having fun.  They are much better at that than I am.”

            “Miss Quiz-kal kinda fun,” said Pound.

            “You said that I am no fun at all.  That is inconsistent.”

            “In-can-sissnt?”

            “Very close.”

_“You still aren’t telling me everything.  You’re worried about something, I can tell.”_

_“I am a little concerned about the furnace.”_

_“Oh.  Well, yeah, ours is working pretty hard, too.  But they’re built for this.  The heaters won’t break down.”_

_“I am comforted to know that your heating system will survive the night.”_

_“Quiz, when I see you tomorrow… find out…not…ing…sooooo mad…”_

            The Note disappeared with a ‘pop.’

            “What happen?” asked Pumpkin.

            “Magical interference, perhaps from the storm, perhaps from the unicorns fighting it.  We may not hear from Sweetie Belle again tonight.  It is just as well.  My friends should get to sleep.  So should you.”

            Pound gave a mighty yawn.  “Not tired,” he lied.

            “Story?” asked Pumpkin.

            “If you insist.  How about “The Very Hungry Ladybug”…?”

            “Make up a story!”

            “Oh, dear.”  Quiz had told one story from memory tonight, and she was still amazed that she had even that one story in her.  As was her habit, when faced with an audience, Quiz summoned visual aids to distract their attention.

            “I do have a trick I can show you.”  Quiz had been improving her magic blackboard spell.  She had studied drawing, and felt her skills as an artist were nearing adequacy.  She had also discovered a phenomenon she called ‘continuance of vision.   If she envisioned several drawings, each slightly different, and she presented them in quick succession, then the drawing appeared to move.

            Hovering over the Twins heads, a cartoon baby ursa began to dance.

            “Ooooooh!  Miss Quiz-kal _show_ us a story!”

            “If you insist, I shall do my best.  What do you want the story to be about?  Pirates?  Ninjas?”

            “Super heroes!”

            “I might have known.” Quiz had seen Mr. Cake’s collection of graphic novels.  “Let me think…our story begins with two young ponies.  They were twins, and they were very powerful.”

            A unicorn and a pegasus, each wearing a cape and mask, appeared on the magic blackboard.  The characters saluted Pound and Pumpkin.

            Quiz continued. “They were called…Miss Magic Pants, and the Mighty Pounder.  They performed many heroic deeds, but their greatest feat was the foiling of a plot to turn Equestria into ice…”

            The tale unfolded, and the super twins fought their way through armies of minions, and the dreaded sidekicks Inconsistant Filly and the Hypothetical Projectile.  Finally, they reached the lair of the super villain Miss Infuriating, and gave her a sound thrashing to save the day.

            Quiz was embarrassed by her amateurish efforts, though she forced herself to continue to the finale.  The twins sat entranced.

            The spell was broken by an unprecedented roar from the storm.  It was so loud it made Quiz jump.  The Twins were terrified.

            “Storm not just storm!  Storm not safe!” cried Pumpkin.

            “Hush, children, you are safe.  It is true, this storm is not natural.  But it is only windigos, and windigos cannot enter this house.”

            “Windigos?”

            “Windigos are the bad things from the First Hearth’s Warming story.  You know that story, do you not?”

            Both foals nodded enthusiastically.  “Good story, very good story.  Teach…ponies should be good to each other.”

            “That is correct.”

            This seemed to worry them.  “Windigos come when ponies are mean to ponies?”

            “It hardly ever happens, but yes.”

            The Twins shot each other a worried look.

            “What is the matter?  Tell me, please.”

            After a long silence, Pound spoke.  “The storm our fault?”

            “What!  Certainly not.  Whatever would make you think that?”

            “Made Miss Quiz-kal mad,” said Pound.

            “Oh.  Well, it is true I was very cross with you when you would not mind while I tended to Miss Pinkie.  And I believe there were other times…never mind.  We are all quite over that.”

            “Made Miss Quiz-kal sad,” whispered Pumpkin.

            “Um, well, yes,” admitted Quiz.  “Perhaps you did hurt my feelings, a bit.  I was prepared to accept that you simply did not like me.”

            “No!  Like Miss Quiz-kal!”

            “Like you lots and lots!”

            “Oh, my…why… thank you.” Quiz stammered.  She blushed.  “I have grown quite fond of you both as well.”

            The storm roared again.

            “Never mind that,” said Quiz, affecting a casual tone.  “It sounds scary, but windigos only make that sound when they are losing.  All the weather ponies outside must be driving them away right now.”

            “Really?”

            “Absolutely.”  Quiz had no idea, but it sounded reasonable.  “But if you really wish to annoy the windigos then I have a plan.”

            “Tell us!”

            “You both love Miss Pinkie, do you not?”

            “Yes, very much!”

            “Then snuggle close to her, and keep her safe and warm.  That will show the windigos that you care, and there is nothing here to interest them.  And if you care then the windigos cannot come near this home.”

            “Ok,” said Pumpkin, and Pound nodded in earnest agreement.  “But Miss Quiz-kal should snuggle, too.”

            “I…yes, later.  But for now I still have work to do.”

            As the Twins finally drifted off to sleep, Quiz started a kettle to make a pot of tea.  She was too young to be allowed caffeine without permission, but she felt she could be forgiven, just this once.

            She felt guilty about what she had just told the children.  It seemed as if she was holding the Twins responsible for keeping the windigos at bay all by themselves.  It did not occur to Quiz that there was more than one way to show the windigos that you cared.

            She made her first mug of tea, and prepared to keep vigil all night.

#

            “Quizzical?”  The Twins were still only half asleep when Pinkie woke up.

            “Miss Pinkie!  How do you feel?”

            “I’m a little head-achy.”  Pinkie frowned.  “Quizzical, are we going to be OK?”

            Quiz was about to answer that she did not know, when Pumpkin stirred.  “Sure we be OK.  We got Miss Quiz-kal.”

            “Yep,” agreed Pound.

            “Alrighty then.”  Pinkie took this as all the answer she needed.  “I think I’ll go back to sleep now.”

            “That is a good idea, Miss Pinkie.  You should get back to your party.  Your guests will wonder where you are.”

            Pinkie laughed softly.  “I love it when you joke, Quizzical.  I wish more ponies knew how funny you are.  But, you know, in my dream I can’t find you anywhere.  I know you were sent an invitation…”

            “Try looking in the shadow the couch casts on the wall, Miss Pinkie.”

            “Oh, good idea.”  Pinkie faded back to sleep.

#

            Quiz did her homework.  She reviewed all the notes she had made that day.  As a lark, she made notes on what happened at Pinkie’s dream party – she planned to ask Pinkie later just what Gummy had done that was so very funny.  She composed her weekly report to Princess Luna, but after reading it through she realized she had best write it over later.  The letter reflected Quiz’s mood, and it read like Quiz thought it was the last report she would ever make.  She wanted very badly to get up and try to clean the house.  One of a foal sitter’s duties was to clean up after the children have gone to sleep.  Disorder offended Quiz to the core of her soul, and to leave the house as it was broke her heart.  But Quiz would not leave the Twins and Pinkie.  Also, she knew that just beyond the screens she had hung the house was freezing.

            Quiz surprised herself by how much tea she drank.

            But mostly, Quiz calculated fuel.

            She timed the burn rate of every other stick of wood she put in the oven.  Since she could not see a clock, Quiz counted the seconds in her head.  She made mental calculations, then cast her magic blackboard and did the calculations again. 

            She did not have quite enough fire wood to last until dawn.

            Summoning wood from the Cake’s wood pile did not work.  It had frozen into a solid block, and Quiz could only teleport objects she could lift.  A solid cord of wood was beyond her.

            Quiz reached out to the wood box by the library fireplace.  She sensed it was empty.  Spike could be forgiven for not filling it, as he and Twilight were visiting Canterlot, and Quiz was, as expected, spending the night at Sugar Cube Corner.  Why fetch wood when no one was there?  That this would inconvenience Quiz was not something he could predict.

            Quiz could think of no place else to find fire wood.  She could put it off for quite some time, but eventually she knew she would have to go get it the hard way.  At least she had a snow shovel.  Mr. Cake had left his by the front door, in preparation for the First Snow.

_“Quizzical?  Darling, can you read this?”_

            This Note was not Sweetie Belle’s blue aura.  It was a dark emerald aura Quiz knew very well.

_“Mother?”_

_“I like this new spell of yours, Quiz, Dear.  It’s quite delightful.”_

_“Mother, how are you doing this?”_

_“The Princesses are using their power to extend the range of the spell.  They feel they owe our family a favor, something to do with putting every pony we employ, along with every piece of equipment we own, into the streets to move this awful snow.  All I asked for is a chance to speak to you.”_

_“Is the storm truly that bad?”_

            There was a long pause before Beryl Greystone answered.  Quiz imagined her choosing her words with care.

_“Do not be alarmed, Darling, but at the moment Ponyville has no protectors.  Weather Patrol was forced to retreat.  The new storm line they formed in Canterlot has turned the tide.  Still, I worry about you.”_

_“Worry will do you no good, Mother.”_

_“What a bland way of telling me nothing, Quiz.  What is happening there?”_

_“I am coping, Mother.”_

_“Seriously, Quizzical, are you actually trying to be evasive?  With me?”_

            Quiz sighed.  She was an expert at hiding her feeling, and she had a lifetime of practice at withholding details she did not want to share.  None of this would help her now.  Quiz now faced the one pony from whom she could keep nothing.

_“Tell me, everything, Quizzical.  I expect details and complete candor.”_

_“Yes, Mother.”_

            So Quiz told her everything.

            This took a bit of time.

_“My poor Darling!  You find so…excitement…know…hate it so.”_

_“Mother, I am losing the spell.”_

_“Is this better?  Yes, I did not get the last bit you sent.  We do not have much time.  Know that the Weather Pegasi are half way to Ponyville.  I am with the unicorns supporting them, and we are following close behind on a train fitted with a plow head. I shall reach you with the dawn.  Many of your friends and the Cakes are with us.  Be brave, be strong, and remember that the children trust you and small ones have an instinct for these things.  This night…last…you…fine.  I….”_

The Note went blank, then disappeared.  “Good bye, Mother.”

            It helped Quiz immeasurably.  She felt better than she had all day.  But there was one problem.  “What was the last bit I said, that she did not get?  Oh.  Yes.  That I am running out of firewood.”

#

            It was still fully dark when Quiz put the last piece of wood in the oven.  She estimated that there was a half an hour before first sun light.

            Quiz got up and pushed past one of the sheets around their warm little enclosure.  Cold air entered, and the Twins stirred.  “Hush, now,” said Quiz, in the most soothing tone she could summon.  “I am just going outside and may be some time.”

            The Twins immediately settled back into a deep sleep, and did not hear the front door open and close.

#

            The rose on a beautiful day in Ponyville.  There was not a cloud in the sky or a breath of wind, and the bright sun immediately warmed the town and began to melt the snow.

            A team of stallions pushed a snow plow to the door of Sugar Cube Corner.   Emergency Medical ponies followed close behind, pulling an ambulance.  A large entourage of ponies followed them.

            They found Pinkie and the Twins sleeping so soundly they did not hear the crowd’s arrival, and only awoke when Mrs. Cake embraced her babies.  They were genuinely surprised by all the commotion.

            Quiz was not there.

            This inspired panicked searching.  The search was interrupted by Quiz, dragging a canvas carrier of firewood, coming up behind everypony.

            “Um…hello?”

            She had tunneled all the way to the wood pile, and broken loose the wood she needed with just her hooves.

            Several ponies rushed to Quiz.  Beryl Greystone got there first.  Mother and daughter buried their faces in each other’s mane.  Several other ponies, including Quiz’s father and brother, and Twilight Sparkle, gathered around them but stood back and did not interrupt.  Quiz soon noticed all the attention.

            “Mother, there are a great many ponies here.”  Quiz trembled, and it was unclear it was more from the cold or a desire to hide.

            “Yes, there are, Dear.  You really shouldn’t be surprised.”  Beryl cast a warming spell on her daughter.  “There, is that better?”

            “Yes, Mother.  I can already feel my hooves again.  Oh, dear, that is actually rather painful.”  Something else worried Quiz.  “Mother, the fire..?

            “Down to embers, but still burning and warm.  You would have made it back in time.”

            “Quizzical Greystone!”  Carrot Cake yelled as he pushed through the crowd to reach her.

            “Mr. Cake, Sir, I am so very sorry…eurk!”

            Carrot enveloped her in a hug that took Quiz’s breath away.  He began to carry Quiz into the kitchen.  “Quickly, Quiz, the children woke up and you weren’t there.   They won’t settle down until they see you.”

            The Twins could be heard crying.  “Where Miss Quiz-kal?  Want Miss Quiz-kal!!!”

            Carrot set Quiz down in front of them.  “Children, what is all this shouting about?”

            She was answered with a flying glomp that knocked her on her back.  The Twins perched on Quiz’s stomach, and clamped on.  Quiz was so stunned she just laid there and took it.  If she enjoyed it at all she did not let on.

            Eventually, they had to be separated, as everypony needed to be evacuated to someplace warmer. 

            “Miss Quiz-kal come back, sit for us again?” asked Pumpkin.

            “Come back soon?” asked Pound.

            “Well…” Quiz paused to consider.  “I must first look at my schedule.  And a weather report.”

#

            Outside, the plow stallions were moving on.  One asked “Where are we heading next, Wheelie?”

            “The Sofas and Quills warehouse,” answered his partner.  “Mr. Rich says his daughter was trapped there all night.”

            


End file.
